


Perceptions

by DamsonDaForge



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Ableism, Android Emotions, Bonding over shared adversity, Bullying, Care, Chronic Pain, Data and Geordi are friend-shaped, Early Season One Data, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Geordi and Data are sweethearts waiting to happen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Solidarity, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:42:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamsonDaForge/pseuds/DamsonDaForge
Summary: Three chapters which explore the evolution of Data and Geordi's friendship/relationship.Set in early Season One.Chapter 1 - Following an unpleasant incident, Data and Geordi bond over drinks in Ten Forward.Chapter 2 - Data makes sure Geordi, recently released from Sickbay, gets back to his quarters okay and has a surprise waiting for him.Chapter 3 - Data resolves to help Geordi with his chronic pain.
Relationships: Data & Geordi La Forge, Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DataSupremacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DataSupremacy/gifts).



> There are themes of bullying, illness and chronic pain, but also themes of kindness and support, decency and care.
> 
> Written for DataSupremacy, who displays admirable grace in the face of much nastyness - I hope you are feeling better and that these stories cheer you up.

* * *

“I can’t settle around him. It creeps me out.”

Data had just taken a seat at the bar in Ten Forward, intending to observe the interactions of his new crewmates, when that phrase punctured his analysis and sent a low-level alert to his self-protection subsystem. The comment had been uttered by Lieutenant James Pinner. It had several characteristics in common with previous instances where Data had been verbally demeaned. On a small number of occasions, such comments had been a precursor to a physical altercation.

His calculations deemed a direct confrontation was unlikely in the current setting and with only an 87.64% chance he was the subject of the comment, Data decided to continue with his observations.

Bobbi Jenkins, Pinner’s colleague was nodding.

“So creepy. I had to realign the phase coils with him last week.” She shuddered and to Data’s admittedly untrained eye, it did not appear completely genuine.

It was curious. Data had not worked with Jenkins on the phase coils last week, or indeed any week, and therefore he could not be the topic of their conversation.

“I hate that you can’t see his eyes,” said Pinner. “You can’t tell what he’s thinking or where he’s looking. He could be looking at anything, or _into_ anywhere, if you know what I mean.”

As Jenkins laughed at his comment, at the other end of the bar, a glass was slammed down hard. Lieutenant La Forge then stood and marched over to Pinner’s table.

“Oh shit,” Pinner mumbled, turning a colour which Data, having compared it to his chromatic archive, found the nearest available match was named ‘puce’.

“Hey, Geordi, hi!” Jenkins cried somewhat incongruously, shock carved into her expression. “We didn’t know you were here.”

“If you have a problem with my work,” La Forge said to his two superior officers, “or with my attitude or my behaviour, take that through the proper channels. If all you want to do is complain about how my disability makes you uncomfortable, can I suggest you do that in private, so I can enjoy my drink in peace?”

Data watched the interaction with his mouth ajar, his eyes darting between La Forge, Pinner and Jenkins.

“Yeah, sure, hey, look,” Pinner babbled, “no offence, okay?”

He then scrambled out of his seat, pulled Jenkins with him and the two of them scurried out of Ten Forward. Perhaps this was an appropriate usage of the idiom, ‘with their tails between their legs’, Data surmised. He would check later.

As he approached Lt. La Forge, Data could hear him muttering.

“ ‘No offence?' ” Geordi was saying. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I too believe that response to be disingenuous,” Data replied.

La Forge jumped a little. “Sir! Sorry for my language.”

“At ease, Lieutenant. It is understandable, in the circumstances. I was preparing to intervene on your behalf, but it seems my assistance was not required. You handled that admirably.”

“I’d have appreciated the back up, sir. It’s horrible, having to do that on my own.”

“So noted,” Data said. It was now clear that the incident had upset his colleague more than had been initially evident. “If you would like to make a formal complaint, I would support your submission.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll think about it, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Good evening, Lieutenant,” Data said and turned to leave.

“Would you like to join me?” Geordi asked.

“Join you?” Data repeated. “For a drink? At this table?”

La Forge smiled and it transformed his face. “Yeah, I don’t think we’ve spent any time together off-duty.”

“You are correct and yes, I would ‘like’ to join you.”

“What would you like to drink?”

Data looked blankly at Lt. La Forge. “I do not know.”

“Do you have a preference or maybe you could try something new?”

“I do not have preferences as such. I tend to imbibe a semi-organic nutrient suspension once a week, which lubricates my bio-functions.”

“Okay, how about we try a few things and see if any hit the spot?”

“That is acceptable.”

Geordi returned after three point four two minutes with a tray laden with ten different beverages. He slid the tray carefully onto the table, took his seat and began pointing at the various glasses.

“Lager. Stout. Red Wine. White Wine. Whisky. Brandy. Gin. Rum. Vodka.”

Geordi had only pointed out nine of the ten drinks.

“What is this one?” Data asked of the tenth.

“Mine,” said La Forge with a grin and took it from the tray.

Data picked up the lager and drank down the half-pint. Then he picked up the half of stout and swallowed the contents in three gulps. The red wine took just two swallows, likewise the white and the spirits he was able to down in one, one after the other. As Data set down the ninth and final glass, he noticed that Lt. La Forge was looking at him, his own drink apparently forgotten in his hand.

“Did, uh, did you like any of those?” the young officer asked.

“I cannot say that I did,” Data mused. “I also cannot say that I did not. I do however have the ability to discern the composition of each beverage and I am able to offer an analysis based upon their chemical make-up, should that be required.”

“Not right now, unless there’s something you want to say.”

“About the beverages, no. I do wish to discuss the earlier occurrence, if you would be amenable. There are aspects of the incident I wish to clarify.”

Lt. La Forge did not answer immediately. He set down his drink and adjusted its position slightly, aligning the square edge of the glass with the table-top.

“What would you like to know?”

“The manner in which you dealt with the incident suggests it was not the first time you have encountered such comments.”

“It’s not, unfortunately.”

“Does it happen often?”

“Not often. Enough that it’s too much. I’ve had it at the start of new postings before or when there’s a crew rotation. It bothers some people.”

“The ideals which are upheld and codified in the Declaration of Universal Rights would seem to be lacking in these instances.”

Geordi nodded. “There’s a subset of people who’ll never realise they’re the ones with the problem.”

“That is an accurate and yet disappointing statement.”

“And they were flirting with each other,” Geordi said, apropos of nothing as far as Data could determine.

“I beg your pardon?” He had detected no romantic overtures in Pinner and Jenkins’ conversation.

“He was trying to impress her.”

“Was he?” Data reviewed the interaction in the light of Lt. La Forge’s input.

“Yeah. It looked like it was working too. The giggling and the suggestive stuff? Makes it worse, somehow, you know?”

Data tilted his head. “How so?”

“I was just collateral damage so they could get off with each other.”

“‘Get off with each other’? Get their clothes off with each other?”

Geordi smiled. “Maybe.”

“It appears both my initial assumptions and subsequent analysis of their conversation were in significant error.”

“What do you mean?” Leaning forward, Lt. La Forge appeared genuinely interested.

“When I heard Lieutenants Pinner and Jenkins use the words ‘creeps’ and ‘creepy’, I calculated a high probability that they were referring to me.”

Geordi’s frown deepened, concern radiating from him. “You’ve been called that before?” he asked.

“On various occasions, amongst other slights and indignities.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You’re not creepy,” Geordi said firmly, “you’re a—”

Lt. La Forge cut himself off and took a deep drink from his glass.

“I am a what, Lieutenant?” 

“I was going to say…” Geordi took a deep breath and then came to some decision. “I was going to say you’re amazing.”

As Data’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise, he detected embarrassment on Lt. La Forge’s part. In Data’s opinion this was not warranted.

“Thank you, Geordi. That is very nice of you to say.”

“It’s true. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“As I am the only Soong-type android known to exist, that is to be expected.”

“You’ve got me on that one,” La Forge said, grinning widely.

Given the earlier unpleasantness, his demeanour was remarkable. He was open and earnest and yet warm and friendly. Encountering such a combination of characteristics was provoking in Data an unavoidable question.

“May I enquire further as to your perception of me? I am aware that I appear… unnatural to my crewmates which affects their interactions with me. Do I not stand out to you as different?”

“You stand out, sir. The first time I saw you, I was... speechless.” Lt. La Forge paused to consider his next statement. “The intricacy of your engineering – nothing had really prepared me for how beautiful it was. And you shone. You’re bathed in this warm, golden glow. I can see it shift and flow with the capacitance of your positronic net.”

“The process does produce minute amounts of Cherenkov Radiation. You are able to perceive that? Hmm!”

“I’ve read that Cherenkov Radiation is blue. But to me it looks gold. It looks like a golden halo.”

“Then I am even more intrigued by the ease with which you are speaking with me. It is nearly unique in my experience.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is the longest non-operational conversation I have had since joining Starfleet as a cadet.”

That information was evidently a shock to Lt. La Forge and his expression slowly hardened into something which looked like anger. 

“That’s not a joke, is it?” La Forge said.

The tone of his voice indicated to Data he knew the answer, but required confirmation regardless.

“Humour is something which evades my comprehension in anything but its most basic form. That was not a joke.”

“What’s the _matter_ with people?” Geordi said, biting out each word.

“They seem to find me ‘weird’, ‘boring’, ‘irritating’, ‘tedious’, ‘intrusive’, ‘rude’—”

Lt. La Forge was holding up his hand. “I get the picture, but I hope you don’t believe them. You’re not intrusive or rude,” he said and was quite insistent. “You’ve been anything but with me this evening. You’ve been interested and engaged and curious and thoughtful, not any of those other things.”

“My experiences thus far indicate that is an opinion unlikely to be replicated widely.”

“You come at the world from a different perspective. That doesn’t make it wrong or bad. If no one’s ever talked to you properly, it’s hardly your fault if you’re treading on conversational toes.”

Data considered Lt. La Forge’s intriguing metaphor and the implications of his comment.

“No one has ever explained it in those terms to me before. My night-watch on the bridge begins shortly, but I would like to thank you Lieutenant, I have found our conversation to be most illuminating.”

“I’m glad. So have I. Look, I’ve got a holodeck booking on Thursday evening at 1830 hours. Would you like to join me?”

It took several processors to compile a response to the unanticipated question.

“What programme will you be running?” Data asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. Does that matter?”

Data pondered the question and decided that it did not. “No, Geordi, I do not believe that it does. Thank you for the invitation, I will accept.”

The smile which lit Geordi’s face was broad and bright and aesthetically quite beautiful.

“Great! I’ll send you some ideas and you can throw in some of your own. I bet we can make one hell of a programme between the two of us.”

“I am certain of that too,” said Data, rising from his seat. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Geordi.”

Data exited Ten Forward with a whole new subset of interactions and insights which would now need to be categorised and processed. There was a strong possibility he now had, for the first time in his experience, someone he would be able to call ‘a friend’.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 - Data makes sure Geordi, recently released from Sickbay, gets back to his quarters okay and has a surprise waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are themes of bullying, illness and chronic pain, but also themes of kindness and support, decency and care.
> 
> In this chapter there is brief mention of illness/coma/injury.

* * *

“May I assist you with anything further?” Data asked.

“No, thanks, I’m…” Geordi swayed and, still only dressed in Sickbay scrubs and a robe, he stumbled against the wall outside his quarters.

Data quickly stepped forward and caught the young lieutenant before he could fall. He sank into Data’s arms, his head momentarily rolling onto Data’s chest.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lifting his gaze with some effort.

“You are still not well. You should return to Sickbay.”

The distortion-wave anomaly they had encountered had severely affected his friend and colleague, having not only caused an overload in the ship’s sensors, but in Geordi’s VISOR too. After several days in Sickbay, two of which were spent in an induced coma, he had finally managed to persuade Dr Crusher to discharge him. Data had, however, insisted on walking him back to his quarters.

“It’s just the sedatives kicking in,” Geordi said, pushing off Data and standing on his own with some little difficulty. “I’ll be fine.”

He pressed the button on the pad with a shaking finger and the doors slid open. Data, anticipating Geordi’s reaction, stood back a little.

“Data?!” Geordi said. “What the hell?”

One hundred seventy-five silver helium-filled balloons festooned the ceiling of Geordi’s quarters. Each one was marked with the slogan, “Get Well Soon!” and featured complimentary designs which included flowers, animals and/or various geometric patterns. Multi-coloured metallic ribbons hung from each one, creating a forest of rippling streamers within the room. 

Geordi had wafted a short way into the tangle of ribbons, causing the balloons to bobble against the ceiling as he moved.

“Did you not tell me that you had balloons as gifts following your successful VISOR surgery as a child?”

“Yeah, but…” Geordi paused, still taking in the spectacle. “There are like ten times as many!”

Data frowned. He was confused. “You had 17.5 balloons following your surgery? How is that possible?”

Geordi smiled, but it was the slow, tired smile of someone who was exhausted. “I didn’t mean exactly ten times.”

“Ah! I extrapolated from the premise that the number of balloons should be commensurate with the level of illness. You were very ill, so I therefore instructed the computer to remotely replicate as many as would fit comfortably within your quarters.”

“Comfortably?” Geordi murmured, looking up at the dozens of silver spheres. “This is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. I mean, it’s kind of out there, but I love it.” His smile widened. “Thank you. And thank you for being there,” he said more seriously. “When I woke up, knowing there was someone there, someone I trusted. It meant a lot. It means a lot.”

“You are welcome, Geordi. Dr Crusher advised that you would be disoriented and require a period of adjustment before you were able to use your VISOR again. I am glad that I was able to assist you.”

“You did more than just assist me, Data. You know that.”

Data was unsure what the correct response should be, having already assured Geordi that he was welcome. He decided a change of subject was in order. “Would you like your gift now?”

“What gift? Aren’t these a gift?” said Geordi, pointing at the galaxy of silver that nestled against the ceiling.

“Technically they are, but there is a further gift waiting for you on the bed.”

“Data, you didn’t need to do that.”

“I know. It was during my research into customs surrounding illness and how one conducts oneself when a friend is injured that I came across the item and decided to request it for you.”

Alongside Geordi, Data fanned his way through the dangling forest of streamers towards the bedroom and the big white box that was tied with a silver ribbon.

Geordi sat down next to it and it was clear that he was extremely tired. It was etched in the slope of his shoulders and in the way he bowed his head. Data was now keen for him to retire to bed as soon as was practical.

“You may open it now,” Data encouraged.

His friend pulled on the silver ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. A baffled frown settled onto Geordi’s brow and Data was concerned.

“When I saw them in the replicator’s database of items, they reminded me of you,” Data said, hoping to clarify for his friend the reason for his choice.

Geordi was still looking in the box.

“I’m… I don’t…” He was apparently having difficulty in finding the words. “You saw these and thought of me?” Geordi asked finally.

“Yes.” 

“Wow.” He was still looking in the box. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

“You do not like them?” Data asked, peering at his friend, suspecting he had miscalculated.

“Data,” Geordi said gently, his hand rubbing at his temples. “I mean, really?”

Geordi then reached in and pulled out his gift. A pair of big, fluffy, bunny-rabbit slippers, complete with floppy ears, emerged from the box.

“I had observed that you did not own a pair of slippers and surmised that it may therefore be a suitable gift.”

“ _Massive_ rabbits?”

“Yes, Geordi.” Data reached down to pet one of the slippers. “They are very soft and will be agreeably warm.”

Geordi’s face did something very strange, there was some kind of contortion which moved beneath the surface, and then his friend was laughing. It bubbled up and out and across the room, the joyous sound filling the space just as surely as one hundred seventy-five silver, streamered balloons.

It was not quite the reaction that Data had been anticipating, but he found the sound fascinating and the sight of his friend, who had been so ill and so unwell, laughing until tears slid down from beneath his VISOR was… delightful.

“Data!” Geordi gasped. “Data, oh my God. They’re completely stupid and I love them.” He shoved the tears away with the heel of one hand but he had started to laugh again, having glanced down once more at the rabbits on his lap.

“I am relieved that you like them. However, you should attempt to control your hilarity, as Dr Crusher advised that you should avoid exertion and retire directly to bed.”

Geordi pulled off his VISOR and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe, still giggling to himself.

“I’m going now, I promise,” Geordi said, out of breath but looking brighter than he had done in nearly a week.

As if to show he was serious, he set his VISOR on the nightstand and set the rabbit slippers next to the bed. Draping his robe over the end of the bed, Geordi got under the shimmering blanket.

“You’re a good friend,” he said, reaching out his hand.

“As are you,” said Data, squeezing Geordi’s fingers.

“Night, Data,” Geordi said, closing his eyes.

“Good night, Geordi,” Data replied and made his way to the door through the drifts of silvery tendrils, leaving a trail of balloons jostling gently against the ceiling as he quietly exited the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 - Data resolves to help Geordi with his chronic pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are themes of bullying, illness and chronic pain, but also themes of kindness and support, decency and care.
> 
> This chapter has detailed discussions of how Geordi's VISOR interacts with his brain.

* * *

“It’s as close as I can get it,” said Geordi, tapping the controls outside the holodeck.

Dr Crusher was with them, and Data stepped back and allowed his colleagues to enter first.

They entered a version of the bridge which neither he nor Dr Crusher had ever seen. Colours swirled in a dizzying blizzard. There was an eruption of every possible shade and hue and the world stood out from itself in quite incredible clarity. There was a chaotic, churning, ever changing cascade of colour seething from every surface. Texture and form bled into jolting shadows – it was overwhelming and Data heard Beverly gasp.

“So this is normal,” Geordi said.

“Fascinating,” Data replied, his eyes wide, drinking in the spectacle in front of them.

Beverly was clearly astonished by what she was seeing but Data noted she had almost immediately put her hand to her forehead, beginning, perhaps, to get a headache.

“Now this is what it was like with ten milligrams of n-loratriptan,” said Geordi. “Computer, run version beta one.”

The colours immediately muted, the definition on the consoles deteriorated to the point that they became difficult to read. Data also noted how the edges of things had begun to blur into those juddering shadows. It was almost impossible to know where a surface ended and its shade began.

“The image degradation is marked,” said Data. 

“This is with just ten milligrams?” Beverly asked.

Geordi nodded.

“But I’d recommend a minimum of fifty for complete pain relief,” said Beverly.

“Computer,” said Geordi, “run version epsilon one.”

Colours drained out almost completely, but more than that, there was a distortion that had Beverly clutching for her stomach. For Data too, the world seemed to lurch and smear in front of his eyes. It was like the slow-motion vertigo of anti-gravity training – the world in front of his eyes whirling and spinning in a most disturbing manner.

Geordi explained. “It not only affects the acuity and the detail when I take a higher dose painkiller, it affects my processing speeds. This is how that lag appears in my VISOR when I take the prescribed dose.”

“I understand how you cannot live with this quality of vision,” Data said. “It is unacceptable. Doctor, I would very much like to discuss options for alleviating Geordi’s pain.”

“Geordi,” Beverly said, taking a swooping breath in. “Can we turn this off now please?”

His friend grinned at her and said, “Computer, end programme.”

The churning, lurching images vanished and the calm, regular certainty of the holodeck grid appeared.

“Look,” said Geordi, “I really appreciate you both wanting to help with this, but I’m just not sure there’s a solution.”

Data noted Beverly’s expression had hardened. 

“Give me a few weeks,” she said, “I want to dig into the research a little more before we give up.”

“Doctor,” Data said. “If I may assist you, we will be able to significantly reduce that timeframe.”

“That would be great, Data. I would say, stop by my quarters tonight and we can discuss some possible avenues.”

“Hey,” said Geordi. “Am I invited?”

“Your presence is not required,” said Data.

“Nice,” said Geordi, quirking a smile.

“But your input would be welcome,” Data concluded.

“Well saved,” Beverly said under her breath as she darted past him.

“1930 hours, Doctor?” Data enquired.

“Perfect,” she said as she strode back to Sickbay.

“Doctor Crusher seems highly motivated to find a solution,” Data observed.

“Physician on a mission,” Geordi said, his expression distant as he watched Dr Crusher disappear down the corridor.

“Your manner is not one I would have anticipated.”

Geordi sighed. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, but I’ve had this a thousand times. Every new CMO, they find out about it and they want to fix it.” He shrugged. “I don’t get my hopes up anymore.”

“Intriguing,” Data said. “If the problem was related to the warp engines or the impulse drive, would you not take it as a professional challenge to be overcome? Or would you give up?”

“I don’t even know what the equivalent issue would be in that scenario,” Geordi responded.

“There may not be a direct equivalent. I was attempting to offer a comparative situation which may explain Dr Crusher’s determination.”

Geordi held up both hands. “Okay, you win. I get what you’re saying. And I was pulling your leg earlier.”

Data recognised the saying but was still confused. “To what are you referring?”

“About whether I was invited to dinner tonight or not. I’ve got a squash game later, so I can’t make it anyway. I was just teasing you.”

“Ah. I did not realise, my apologies.”

Geordi clapped him on the back. “We’ll keep working on it, huh?”

“Indeed. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Data was somewhat thrown by Geordi’s unconventional farewell, but his friend’s wide smile reassured him all was well.

“Humans can only see a fraction of one per cent of the EM spectrum.” Dr Crusher snapped the bread stick in half, using the ends to point towards him. “I understand you can see about 5%, Data?”

“I can see into the near infra-red giving approximately 5.37% coverage.”

Scooping humus, Beverly said, “Geordi can see around _sixty per cent_ , a huge amount. And that’s without counting the various elementary particles he is able to perceive. That is vastly more input than our brains were meant to handle.”

“The bank of pre-processers within Geordi’s implants applies a series of complex compression functions to the incoming data stream.”

Dr Crusher nodded. “And without them, he’s in trouble.”

“As we saw with the recent incident with the distortion-wave anomaly.”

“But even with the compression of the data, Geordi’s brain still has to process massive amounts of visual information. Each occipital lobe has over three billion additional synaptic connections and the volume is two-thirds larger than average. The energy demands this puts on his system are considerable and the blood flow to his brain is consequently much larger than ours.”

“And this is where Geordi’s pain originates?”

“Correct. More energy means more blood flow, which means Geordi has more and larger vessels than is usual. They also have to dilate to their greatest extent far more often. All packed into the same sized space.”

“I concur with your initial assessment, that there are broadly two options. Pain relief or surgery.”

“The medication works by closing down those dilated blood vessels, thereby reducing the pressure and reducing or removing the pain. But we’ve had a graphic demonstration of why that is not a solution for Geordi.”

“Are you able to detail the surgical option?”

“By severing the nerves which control the vessels, they will no longer function at their fullest extent, again reducing the pressure and therefore the pain.”

“So the desired outcome of both methods has the effect of reducing the blood flow to Geordi’s visual centres, but in reducing his pain, his visual acuity will be, in essence, destroyed.”

“If you can see a way to square this circle, Data, I’m all ears.”

Setting aside Dr Crusher’s somewhat mixed metaphor, Data reviewed the existing literature, surgical options, examined the pharmaceutical database and came to his conclusion.

“Without advances in either pharmacological or technological arenas, I cannot currently see how we can offer Geordi a permanent solution to his pain.”

Dr Crusher nodded, resignation on her face. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking,” she said.

“Nor I,” said Data. “Nor I.”

“This? This is your solution?” a VISOR-less Geordi nearly moaned.

“It is all I am able to offer, given current limitations.”

“Mmmhmm. Uh,” said Geordi. “Uh. Oh… my God.”

Data had arrived in Geordi’s quarters with the disappointing news following his dinner with Dr Crusher.

“Is the temperature still to your liking?” he asked.

“Oh yeah. Yeah. S’perfect.”

“I can reduce it further, if required. You merely have to ask.”

“ ’kay.”

Data continued Geordi’s head and neck massage, ensuring he maintained the chilled temperature in his hands that Geordi preferred. Data had taken inspiration from Shiatsu, Mitarian and Vulcan massage therapies, seeking a unified technique which would assist in alleviating Geordi’s pain. From the sounds that Geordi was making, it was indeed having an effect and Data could feel the tension in his friend’s muscles ease beneath his firm, cold touch.

“This is amazing,” Geordi murmured. “You’re amazing. Don’t ever, ever stop.”

“I will not be able to continue indefinitely,” Data replied. “Our shift on the bridge begins at 0700 hours and I will not be able to continue whilst on duty.”

Geordi groaned. “ ’m sure Captain Picard wouldn’t mind,” he mumbled.

Data pulled a face, certain that their commanding officer certainly would.

“I think you are mistaken, Geordi.”

“Whatever. Just… just keep doing that, what you’re doing.”

“I will continue for as long as I am able, but at some point you will need to go to bed.”

“You’re the best,” Geordi said, nearly purring his words.

“Thank you, Geordi. I do believe I have now optimised my technique.”

“Uh, I’d say so.”

“I am happy to attend to you when required, as long as it does not affect our duties.”

“Shouldn’t’ve said that,” Geordi slurred.

“Why not?” Data continued to apply exquisite pressure to Geordi’s head, neck and shoulders as he waited for his friend’s reply.

“I’m gonna be calling you every day.”

“Feel free to do so, I do not mind,” said Data. “If it relieves your pain, I consider it time well spent.”

He felt Geordi momentarily tense beneath his fingers and then his friend’s head fell forward, away from Data’s hands.

“Geordi?” he enquired. “Are you all right?”

His friend nodded but did not speak for a moment. When he did his voice was loaded with emotion.

“I’m good,” he said. “Better than good. I’m great.”

“Do you wish for me to continue?”

“No, I’m fine now, thank you. _Thank you_. That was amazing. I can’t believe… you did that for me.”

“I am glad that it was successful. My reading around the subject suggests that you should now have a deep and fulfilling night’s sleep.”

“That I can believe. I mean it, Data. I can’t thank you enough for this. It was incredible.”

“That is what friends are for,” said Data.

He noted that his reply caused Geordi’s response to falter and it was several seconds before he replied.

“I’m lucky to have you,” he said and his voice was scuffed with tears.

“I believe that you would reciprocate, should our positions ever be reversed.”

He was gratified to see that his comment had made Geordi smile.

“Data, if you ever want a head massage, you just holler, okay?”

“I will indeed. As it is approaching 2330 hours, if that is all, I will bid you a good night.”

“Data?”

He paused by the doors. “Yes, Geordi?”

“Thank you, for everything and… and just for being you.”

Data’s head ticked once, twice, three times.

“Thank you, Geordi. Good night.”

“Good night, Data. Good night, my friend.”


End file.
